Oliver had just effectively become an orphan. He was walking away 'angry faced' as Felicity coined the term, from informing his mother that he was no longer her son. It took all his will power not to curl up into a ball and cry. He hadn't felt this lost since his shipwreck, drifting out at sea with no plan and no purpose. One of the very last slivers of his old life as 'Ollie' had imploded at the hands of someone he trusted with his entire being. He viciously slammed the front door of the Queen mansion behind him. Tightening his hands into fists, he tried his hardest to wrangle as much restraint as he could muster to not tear down the building behind him brick by frickin' brick. The mansion no longer conjured the feelings of safety and warmth that he associated with no other place than his home. Now, it felt fraudulent and cold. He promised himself he would never again be so weak and out of control like he was on the island, so he allowed himself only to feel the one other emotion that he was all too familiar with: rage. He would not allow himself to mourn anyone else. He had already lost too much for one man to bear. He shoved his feelings down with mastered practice and focused his thoughts on how livid he was. All he could see was red. How could his mother possibly keep this from him? How could she do this to his father and Thea? How could she think that he would react in any other way? The woman had shot him, nearly killing him, but he forgave that because the love she had for him was always so strong. But enough. Enough of her deceit, manipulations and games. She was indeed protecting someone with her lies, but that person always remained to be herself. Take a deep breathe, he told himself has he tried to figure out what to do. He needed to get the hell away from this farce of a home. His brain was going a thousand miles a second wavering from severe heartache to intense fury. He closed his eyes, trying to center himself. Another deep breathe. When his thoughts seemed to slow to a more manageable pace, the image it revealed was none other than his blonde partner in vigilantism. He remembered the way she looked this afternoon before he asked her for the truth. She looked as if she was ready to shoulder all the pain his mother had caused, rather than tell him what Moira was hiding. Suddenly he felt an intense need to see her. He needed to be around her shiny golden hair, her brightly colored lipstick and nails, and most of all he needed to see that bright smile looking up at him. He needed some light in the endless darkness he called his life. Still seething, he hopped onto his motorcycle and peeled out towards Felicity's apartment.
BANG! BANG! BANG! Felicity jumped suddenly at the thunderous sounds of knocking waylaying her door. 'That can only be one person' she sighed to herself before getting up from the couch and answering her door. The door swung open to reveal a tight-lipped and rigid jaw standing in front of her. She looked up into his dark eyes, swirling with so much anger and pain. "Oh, Oliver. God, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have told you. I am such an idiot." She reached out to touch his bicep tentatively. His face relaxed marginally, but the pain remained behind though piercing blue eyes. "Felicity. This is so far from your fault. Please don't apologize. I needed to know." She nodded slightly and stepped back to let him into her apartment. He stepped in and saw the TV playing a movie while a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream stood on the coffee table with a metal spoon sticking out of the cartoon. Felicity followed his gaze to the ice cream carton and her lips twitched up slightly. "Stress ice cream? It's the best kind." He looked back at her to see her beautiful smile. Not quite a real and genuine Felicity Smoak smile, but he would take what he could get. "I see that bowls are merely a suggestion in situations like these." She blushed slightly. He felt himself warm in response. "Don't you judge, Oliver Queen. Bowls are over rated." The two stood there staring at each other for a moment, trying to find the right words to comfort one another when finally Felicity broke and chose to go with, "Can I get you some water?"
Without an answer she crossed her arms and walked towards her kitchen. Oliver diligently followed until he reached her small kitchen island. He rested his elbows on the counter top letting his face fall into his hands. He rubbed his face up and down, hoping that maybe with luck and enough friction he could make himself wake up from this terrible day. The next thing he knew, there was the sound of a glass being placed in front of his elbows and a warm hand placed on his shoulder. Felicity felt the tightness in his shoulder without even having to squeeze. She couldn't help but feel guilty that she was part of the reason he was in such turmoil. Oliver looked up at her again, searching her eyes to ground him back to reality. Felicity could tell there was so much going on in that brain of his, though he tried to stay as stoic as possible. To her, he looked like a wounded animal: scared, alone, and in pain.
"So what happened?" she asked.
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, she is no longer my mother. I made that pretty clear just before coming here."
At a loss for words, Felicity let her hand slide from his shoulder downward to his hand where she gave it a light squeeze before pulling back and saying, "I feel a bit like a broken record here, but I'm so sorry Oliver. I never meant to hurt you. I would do anything to protect you." He looked into her crystal clear blue eyes mudded with guilt and sadness. Suddenly, Oliver was filled with renewed rage. No. His mother did not get to ruin any more lives by making Felicity think this was in anyway her fault. He squeezed his hands into fist and hit the marble counter top. He looked back at her expecting to see her cowering away from him or at the very least looking terrified of him. Instead, he only found more concern looking back up at him.
"No! My mother doesn't get to ruin your life too. You did everything right Felicity. As usual. Thank you. Thank you for telling me and trying to protect me. From my own mother. AGAIN!"
He stood up at his full height and pulled her into himself. "Thank you Felicity. I would never for one second think to blame you." Her arms wrapped around his waist as she squeezed him back. Oliver pulled back enough to look down at her. What he found in those darkening blue eyes was startling. He wanted nothing more than to kiss those brightly painted lips. But this was Felicity, his eternal guiding light. He couldn't taint her with his darkness. She was too good for him. She was too special, too innocent, too incredible to deserve this broken shell of a man. Felicity deserved the world, someone who could love her without reservations and without U-Hall trucks of baggage. She deserved someone who shines as bright as she does. What he told her a few weeks ago about not being with someone he truly cared about was one hundred percent true. He couldn't risk hurting anyone else with his life choices. He had slipped up however. He had said 'could' care about, but if he were honest with himself for even a second, he would admit that Oliver already cared so deeply about Felicity it scared him everyday. Nonetheless, it seemed whoever he touched or loved didn't survive. He wasn't going to risk that with her. The words that he said to Dig the day she found out his secret still remained true, he would protect her. He would do anything to protect his light. He pulled out of her embrace, "I'm sorry I came in here like this. I'm fine, really. I just, I know this was hard for you too. Thank you for understanding Felicity." He took a sip of his water, "and thanks for the water" he said winking. Walking towards the door, he hesitated right before exiting not being able to look at her because if he did, he didn't know if he would be able to leave her gentle and caring presence.
"I'll see you tomorrow Miss Smoak."
"Good night Oliver." She whispered, but he was already gone.
He needed to hit something. What his body really wanted to do was lay down for the next five years and sob, but that was out of the question. He drove to verdant, ripped off his shirt and started training. When Sarah came in, memories of his old life came flooding back. He remembered when he still had two parents, a full sister, and a happy family. He remembered when he thought he had it all: money, parties, girls and his best friend Tommy. He remembered when trusted both his parents with his life and he didn't have any sense of responsibility. There was no mission to save the city, only the mission to find a new girl to flirt with and a new way to make it into the papers. Though they both had gone through hell and back on the island, Sarah knew Ollie, the pre-island playboy. Suddenly a huge part of him longed to remember what that felt like. What it was like not to worry and just take the easy way out. So he did the only thing he could think of that would take him back, even for just a moment, to Ollie instead of Oliver - the man who had lost everything. He kissed her. Sarah was already filled with her own darkness, so this way he wouldn't have to worry about leaving a mark. Both of their pasts, shames and mistakes already knew each other intimately. What was one more mistake?